


Power for Good

by Ranger_Nova



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Betrayal, Canon Divergence, Colony in Space, Gen, Heroes making bad choices, Vague new series references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-14
Updated: 2016-09-14
Packaged: 2018-08-15 00:59:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8036113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ranger_Nova/pseuds/Ranger_Nova
Summary: What if the Doctor had accepted the Master's offer in Colony in Space?





	Power for Good

"So, you intend to hold the universe to ransom?" The Doctor let disgust fill his voice as he stared across at the Master. They were in the heart of the Primitive city, in the control room of the great superweapon the Master had been so keen on finding.

A thoughtful look crossed the Master’s face, and he approached the Doctor—weapon still firmly in hand, just to emphasise precisely which of them was in charge. "Doctor," he said, "why don’t you come in with me? We’re both Time Lords. We’re both renegades. We could be masters of the galaxy!"

So that was why he was still alive. The Master didn’t want him as a prisoner—he wanted him as an ally. Under other circumstances, the Doctor might have been touched that his old friend still held him in such regard.

"Think of it, Doctor..." the Master whispered.

Rubbing his chin, the Doctor was unnerved to find that he was indeed thinking of it. But no—conquest was wrong. What the Master was suggesting went against everything he believed in.

"Absolute power," continued the Master. "Power for good. Why, you could reign benevolently! You could end war, suffering, disease!"

The Doctor flinched. The trouble with having an old friend for an enemy was that they knew you too well. The Master was offering him exactly what he wanted—the chance to help people, to make history a better place. Wasn’t that what he himself had been doing, on a smaller scale, before the Time Lords exiled him? But no... the price was just too high.

"We could save the universe," the Master coaxed. He sounded so sincere—the Doctor could almost believe he meant it.

He thought of all the hurt and despair he had seen during his travels. So many needless deaths. So much suffering that could’ve been avoided if people had only _listened_ to him. The Doctor remembered the alternate Earth, and the Liz Shaw who had burnt to death because he hadn’t been able to save her. Far, far too many people he knew had died. How many of them could he have saved if he’d had more power? What if he had a way to _make_ people listen to him? To force people to do what was best for them?

_No,_ he thought. _Absolute power will always corrupt. Always._

But how could he take the moral high ground and stand aside while people were dying across the universe in pointless wars, from curable diseases, because of stupid mistakes, and at the hands of monsters like the Daleks? Would those people thank him for refusing to help, all because he wanted to keep his conscience clean? If wielding power was what it would take to save the universe, then wouldn’t it be worth it? Hadn’t he criticized the Time Lords during his trial for the way they stood back and did nothing, when they had the power to help so many people? Was he going to become just like them and throw away the chance to do good in the universe?

He looked at the Master. Whatever he choice he made, the Master would go ahead with his plan anyway. Perhaps the Doctor could stop him, perhaps he couldn’t, but if the Master took control of the superweapon, he wouldn’t care about the greater good. He would be merciless, using it only to further his own ends. At least if the Doctor joined him, there would be someone to keep the Master in line. Someone to temper the Master’s ambition with wisdom and kindness.

"What exactly did you have in mind?" the Doctor asked at last.

A smile crept slowly across the Master’s face.

* * *

_Oh, Doctor, where are you?_ Jo stumbled through another corridor, followed by Caldwell, the IMC man who was helping her. She knew the Doctor had to be there somewhere, if... if he was... No, he _was_ still alive! She knew it! She just had to find him!

She only wished she knew where she was going.

They pushed on, trying corridor after corridor, until at last they came to a door which opened in a bright control room of sorts. Joy rose in Jo’s heart when she saw the Doctor standing inside. She rushed forward to embrace him, barely even noticing the Master standing beside him.

"Oh, Doctor!" she cried, wrapping her arms around him. "I’m so glad you’re safe!"

She was surprised when he held himself back stiffly instead of returning the hug. Pulling away awkwardly, she glanced around, and saw that the Master and Caldwell were having something of a stand-off. Both were pointing weapons at each other, and neither seemed ready to back down.

"Drop it," Caldwell warned.

"I think not." The Master’s eyes shifted to the Doctor. "Doctor?"

The Doctor rubbed his neck. "I think everyone should put down their guns before someone gets hurt."

Jo frowned. "But Doctor, the Master—"

"Jo, please, be quiet. And you," he said to Caldwell, not unkindly, "put that gun down, there’s a good chap."

Caldwell looked to Jo, and she shrugged helplessly, knowing there was nothing for it but to trust the Doctor. With one last glare at the Master, Caldwell knelt and put his gun on the floor. "Satisfied, Doctor?"

The Doctor said nothing.

"I’m not sure about the Doctor, but I certainly am." The Master smiled and picked up the gun. As Jo watched him, she suddenly noticed a small shape crumpled in the corner.

"What’s that?" she gasped, pointing.

"Ah, that was the Guardian of the city," said the Master. "He came here and introduced himself to me a few minutes ago, but it was a rather _short-lived_ acquaintance."

"You killed him!"

"With the Doctor’s help, yes."

"No!" Jo couldn’t believe it. She spun to face the Doctor. "What’s going on? Oh, Doctor, let’s get out of here!"

The Doctor took a step back from her. "You don’t understand, Jo... I... I must..." He sighed and glared at the Master. "You know, killing that being really wasn’t necessary. I was talking to him—I could have reasoned with him!"

"He wasn’t listening! He wanted you to blow up the city!" The Master rolled his eyes. "I took care of the problem while you were distracting him."

"This isn’t how I want things to be!" The Doctor closed his eyes. "I want to use this machine to _end_ killings."

"Doctor, what are you talking about?" Jo persisted. Something awful was happening, but she couldn’t understand what. Was the Doctor working with the Master? No, surely he wouldn’t! "Please, tell me what’s going on!"

Taking her arms gently in his hands, the Doctor drew Jo close. "You see, it’s like this, Jo... I have a chance here. Don’t you see, a wonderful chance—I can finally fix all the things that are wrong with the universe! With this machine, I can finally make people listen to me! I can show them what they need to do! I can prevent so much heartbreak, so many catastrophes! I don’t have to be stuck on Earth anymore, saving one little planet from the occasional invasion—I can protect the whole universe! I can make it safe for everyone!"

"No! You can’t!" Jo shoved him away. "That’s—that’s horrid! You want to rule over everyone! You want to be just like the Master!"

"One could have worse aspirations," remarked the Master.

"No, Jo, it’s not like that!" insisted the Doctor. "Jo, please!"

Jo backed away from him.

"You can stay here, with me! You can help me!" he pleaded.

Fighting back a sob, Jo shook her head. This couldn’t be happening, it just couldn’t. She stared at the two Time Lords, desperately wishing there was something she could do. How could she make the Doctor see he was wrong?

"You," said the Master to Caldwell, breaking the tense silence. "Make yourself useful. Tell your superior, Captain Dent, that I want IMC to get all these Primitives out the city. Use force if you have to. And then I want all the colonists and all the IMC crewmen to start working for me—us—immediately. I have a great many tasks for you."

"Hang on, why should we?" demanded Caldwell.

The Master smiled. "Because if you don’t, I shall start destroying offworld human colonies. And if that doesn’t convince you, perhaps I should put Earth itself under threat..."

"No! Oh, Doctor, you can’t let him!" screamed Jo.

The Doctor hung his head in shame. "It’s the only way to make people listen, Jo..."

"No! No!" Clenching her hands into fists, Jo ran out the room and dashed through the city, tripping through the corridors and shoving past Primitives. She made it to the exit and kept running, leaving the city behind her.

As she passed another group of ruins, she felt a strange tingle in her mind, like something calling to her. She found herself running towards it. When she entered the old ruins, she discovered what had been summoning her.

"The TARDIS!"

The Primitives had dragged it away after they’d landed, and here it was. Jo wanted to run back to the city and tell the Doctor that she’d found it, but she forced that thought—and her tears—away. Neither would do any good.

Yanking open the doors, she stumbled in and steadied herself against the console. What was she going to do now?

_If the Time Lords sent us here,_ she thought, _then they will have probably already programmed the return coordinates in. All I need to do is activate them._ But how? She shut her eyes and pulled a lever, deciding to leave it to fate.

The center of the console began to move up and down and Jo sagged to the floor in relief.

When the console stopped moving and the groaning noise ceased, she knew she had landed, and she forced herself to get up and open the doors. Maybe somehow, by some miracle, when she stepped outside everything would be okay.

"Come on out, Doctor."

It was the Brigadier’s voice. So she _had_ made it back to Earth. "No," she said softly, emerging inside the Doctor’s lab, "it’s—it’s not the Doctor... It’s me."

* * *

It seemed that every time he returned to their base on Uxarieus, the place had taken on an even more ostentatious look. Even calling it a base was now an understatement—palace was more like it. The Doctor sighed and stepped out the Master’s TARDIS, offering a small wave to the guards that had come to greet him. He used to know all of them by name, but he’d gradually stopped trying to befriend the base’s staff, and now they all blurred together. It was best not to get attached to people who were serving you out of fear—the conversations were too awkward.

He made his way through the maze of corridors and soon found the Master, exactly where he always seemed to be—in the control room, looking after the superweapon and seeing to the day-to-day running of their... no, he wasn’t going to call it an empire. It wasn’t an empire, after all, it was just a... a carefully-controlled alliance. The Doctor suppressed a twinge of discomfort.

"Oh, I see you’re back again," the Master remarked, looking up from a readout on one of the screens. "Everything settled on Skaro, then?"

"The Thals have all been evacuated," said the Doctor. "Every last one of them. I found a new world for them to live on—a world that hasn’t been poisoned by centuries of pointless war. They can make a new start for themselves now."

The Master nodded. "How wonderful for them. But all I need to know is if we can proceed—well, can we, Doctor?"

There was a pause as the Doctor rubbed his chin. He was about to condemn an entire planet to death; a planet of evil creatures who’d brought untold suffering upon the universe, yes, but still an entire planet. "Er, well... yes, yes, I think it’s for the best."

"Excellent!" The Master rubbed his hands together. "I’ll power up the weapon and set the coordinates!"

The Doctor sighed and glanced around the room, trying to avoid watching what the Master was doing so he didn’t have to think about it. "I see you’ve been redecorating again," he remarked casually. "One of the guards told me you now have a throne in meeting hall."

"It’s not a throne, it’s simply a large chair. I find it presents a better image if I sit while our guests remain standing."

"I hear it’s a very _grand_ chair."

The Master shrugged. "You and I are important people, Doctor. We deserve the very best."

"But I don’t _want_ the best—not for myself, anyway."

"I know, I know, you’re doing all this for the greater good of the universe, etcetera, etcetera. Really, Doctor, why can’t you just have a little _fun_ with your power? Would it be so wrong to indulge yourself once in awhile?"

The Doctor shook his head. "Delusions of grandeur have never been my style. I don’t feel the need to live in palaces or sit on thrones... unlike _some_ people."

"I don’t see what you’re complaining about," sighed the Master. "It’s not as if you even spend much time here. You’re always off on some trivial adventure in my TARDIS, even when we have _real_ work to do at the base. Are you still making up for all that time you lost, stuck on Earth?"

"Try being exiled for awhile and see how you like it," the Doctor answered sharply. "Besides, I _am_ doing real work—if we’re to rule this universe, one of us has to keep a close eye on it. I can’t help people if I don’t know where the problems are."

"I suppose you have a point." The Master stood up from where he’d been working and clapped his hands together again. "Alright, Doctor, the weapon is ready—we’re one push of a button away from wiping out every Dalek on Skaro! Would you like to do it, or shall I?"

The Doctor hesitated. It had been his idea, and he knew he ought to be the one to follow through with it. But he also knew by the shaking in his hands he couldn’t. Not even to the Daleks. "I think you’ll enjoy it more than I will, don’t you?" he said dryly.

A malicious smile answered him, and the Master operated the controls. The Doctor forced himself to watch the destruction on the screen. In what seemed like the blink of an eye, Skaro’s star went supernova and the planet was blotted out the pages of history forever.

He sighed heavily. "Well, that’s that then."

"Not quite," said the Master, adjusting the controls again. "We have one other piece of business to finish today."

"Oh?"

"The Draconians," the Master continued. "They’re refusing to submit to our rule."

"They’re a proud people."

"Too proud, it would seem. I’ve tried reasoning with them, but they won’t listen." He shrugged. "They leave me with no choice..."

The Doctor looked up sharply, the Master’s meaning suddenly registering. "Wait, you can’t mean to—"

"I can and I will. We have to make it clear to the rest of the universe that we stand by our threats. If we aren’t deadly serious, this entire operation falls apart!"

"No!" The Doctor stared at him in horror. "This is going too far! I won’t let you do it!"

The Master glared at him. "And then what, Doctor? If we let the Draconians live, what do you think will happen? Do you think you’ll still be able to protect your precious little humans and Thals and every other race you deem worthy of saving? There are still factions of Daleks out there—what’ll they do when they find out how weak we are? What will we do if the Draconians make a pre-emptive strike on our base? There’s too much at stake!"

"You’re talking about the slaughter of innocent civilians—of an entire civilisation! Of children!"

"To save many _more_ civilisations and _their_ children. That’s why you agreed to all this in the first place, isn’t it, Doctor? You knew that force is the only way to get anything done in this universe!"

His friend was right, of course, but there had to be another way. He knew the Draconians—they weren’t evil people, not like the Daleks. They didn’t deserve to die. "Don’t act like you care about any of that!" snapped the Doctor. "You’re only doing this for yourself, man! You don’t care who lives or dies, you just like being the one who gets to decide!"

"Certainly, but we’re talking about you, and you _do_  care." The Master brought up an image of the Draconian sun on the screen. "And you know this is the only way to ensure our continued dominance over the universe."

The Doctor shut his eyes. "There has to be something... something we can... Oh, at least let me try speaking to them first!"

"They won’t listen, Doctor, they’ve blocked all communication. This," he pointed to the weapon, "is the only message we can send to them now."

It wasn’t fair. He’d never wanted to be in this position—he didn’t want to be making these decisions. This was exactly the kind of thing that he’d always hated about authority figures! The Doctor balled his hands into fists and turned around. "Do whatever you think is best," he hissed through his teeth, "but don’t expect me to stand here and watch!"

He marched out, leaving Draconia to the Master’s mercy.

* * *

Jo spent a lot of time simply sitting in the TARDIS, by herself. Sometimes she cried, sometimes she didn’t. But the pain was always there no matter what she did. The Brigadier had tried to get her to take some leave, but she refused. Part of her truly believed that if she just kept waiting, eventually the Doctor would come back.

It had been months and she was still sitting in the TARDIS alone.

The rest of UNIT seemed to have finally adjusted to the Doctor’s departure, and the Brigadier told her not to worry too much—whatever happened, it was all in the future, so there was nothing they could do about it. It was best to just move on. Jo wished she could do that, but the hole in her heart just wouldn’t close up.

The Doctor—her friend, the most wonderful person she’d ever met—had betrayed her. He was gone from her life now. How could she move on after that?

There was a low hum from the TARDIS. Jo looked up, puzzled. Her mouth fell open when she saw the column begin moving up and down. The ship was in flight! Where was it going? Who was controlling it?

As if in answer to her question, a voice came through over the speakers: "This time capsule is being returned to Gallifrey on the orders of the High Council of the Time Lords. Any and all occupants will submit themselves to the chancellery guard on arrival."

Jo gasped. The Time Lords!

* * *

"The Time Lords!" The Master banged his fist on the table. "Those arrogant fossils on the High Council think they can order us to cease our operations!" He snorted. "Cease our operations indeed! As if _they_ are in any position to be making demands of _us_!"

The Doctor shrugged. "We must be careful. We can’t underestimate their power—they could still destroy us if we don’t do something quickly."

"Oh, it’s not their power I doubt, it’s their will. By the time they’ve decided on a course of action, we will already have wiped them from existence!"

"Wiped them from— What are you saying?" The Doctor knew they had to do _something_ , but was the Master seriously planning to destroy the Time Lords themselves?

"What I’m saying is quite clear, Doctor. We use the superweapon on Gallifrey." The Master leaned back smugly. "That’ll certainly show them just who gives the orders around here."

Swallowing, the Doctor tried to come to terms with what the Master was suggesting. "But they’re our own people..."

"What, do you still feel some kinship with those doddering old bureaucrats who shut themselves away in the Capitol instead of facing the universe? The people who stranded you on Earth? Doctor, we left Gallifrey to get _away_ from them! Now we can finally be rid of them entirely!"

"We had friends on Gallifrey once. There are good people there—they deserve better than this! How many children do you think are living there right now, children who should have a chance to be something more than their elders? We could make Gallifrey into a wonderful place! It could be the new centre of our operations!"

The Master shook his head. "We would never get the chance! They will destroy us if we don’t destroy them first!" He leaned forward. "How many children were on Draconia, Doctor, hmm? How many infant Daleks on Skaro? You never gave _them_ a chance, did you? Was there no hope _they_ could be made into something better?"

"That was different!"

"No it wasn’t!" The Master stood up. "You have your worlds—your little ant farms you can play with and protect! I let you run Earth exactly as you please, don’t I? That’s only possible because _we_ are in control! And to maintain that control, sacrifices have to be made!"

"I know," said the Doctor. He clenched his fingers around the edge of the table. Why did he seem to loathe himself more with each day? Why couldn’t things be _simple_? "But... this is Gallifrey..."

The Master smiled. "It won’t be for much longer."

* * *

The Doctor avoided sleep even more than he used to now. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see the brilliant light of the two suns as they went supernova, taking Gallifrey, its neighbouring planets, and all their inhabitants with them. He often wondered if any Time Lord had gotten away, and how many stilled lived. Surely he and the Master couldn’t be the last two in the universe? The thought turned his whole body cold.

_It had to be done,_ he kept telling himself. _It had to be done._

As he turned down another corridor, heading for his lab—a little work there always relaxed him—he saw the Master marching stormily towards him. "Is something wrong?" he asked.

"Doctor," the Master growled, "what is the meaning of this?"

"My dear chap, I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about."

The Master folded his arms. "So you don’t know about the raid on one of our outposts?"

"Why should I? I believe we decided that sort of problem was strictly your department. I don’t have time to worry about petty raids and other insignificant..."

"It wasn’t just any sort of raid," the Master insisted. "It occurred on the planet where we keep all of our political prisoners. Someone got past all our defenses, got inside the prison, and emptied the cells. They freed everyone— _everyone_!"

The Doctor chewed his lip. "Yes... yes, I can see why you’re upset. That’s going to create a bit of trouble for us. But my dear fellow, why do you say this as if _I_ had something to do with it?"

"Security footage was recovered from one of the cameras, showing exactly _how_ the intruder got in," said the Master slowly. "A little after midnight, a large blue _box_ materialised within the building. An individual carrying a sonic device emerged from it and freed all the prisoners. Need I go on?"

The TARDIS! Oh, how he’d missed it—he’d tried to find it in the ruins of the city, but it had vanished... just like Jo. "Who was this individual?" he demanded.

"Your faithful companion, Miss Grant, of course," the Master said with a sneer. "Do you really expect me to believe you know nothing about this? That Jo Grant has somehow figured out how to pilot a TARDIS on her own?"

"Come now, man, do you think I’d send Jo on a solo mission like this? Even if I wanted to free those prisoners, I’d never put her in that kind of danger!" He frowned. "Besides, I thought this little partnership of ours was going to be based on trust! Haven’t I earned enough of that from you? After all the things we’ve done, would I really try to turn back and change things now?"

"Hmm." The Master considered. "Perhaps not. But I still need to be absolutely sure I can count on you. If Miss Grant is acting against us, then together we must put a stop it, and you know very well that may mean putting a stop to _her_."

The Doctor flinched, but nodded. "I’m sure it won’t come to that. I just need to talk to her, make her see..."

"First we must find—"

The Master’s words were cut off by the sound of a loud explosion rocking the building. The pair stumbled and fell against the walls.

"What was that?" cried the Doctor.

"It came from the control room!" There was panic in the Master’s voice. The control room was the seat of their power—without the superweapon, their empire would be nothing.

"Come on!" The Doctor rushed down the corridor, with the Master right behind him. When they reached the control room, they both gasped aloud in horror.

It had been utterly wrecked. The consoles lay in black, exploded ruins across the floor, smoking rising up in thick clouds.

"Who did this?" the Master demanded, shouting up at the ceiling.

"I’m over here." The voice was a sweet, familiar one.

"Jo!" The Doctor saw her through the smoke, standing at the centre of the devastation. It had been far, far too long since he’d seen that face. He almost ran out to hug her, but the cold look she fixed on him stopped him.

"Hello, Doctor." The sweetness remained, but it masked an anger, a determination. "Hello, Master."

"You’ll die for this!" the Master yelled, pulling his laser from his jacket and aiming it at her.

Before the Doctor could reach out to stop him, the Master fired, but Jo was no longer there. She had dived out the way and was now running to the blue police box hidden in the corner. "Catch me if you can!" she called over her shoulder. The doors shut before they could reach her and the TARDIS faded away.

Throwing the laser down in fury, the Master stomped abut the rubble. "That girl—she’s ruined it! She’s destroyed the controls! She’s ruined EVERYTHING!"

"Perhaps we can fix it," suggested the Doctor, his mind only half on what his partner was saying. That look in Jo’s eyes... why had it hurt so much?

The Master paused. "Perhaps," he conceded. "But first we must take care of the wretched Miss Grant!" He turned and ran back down the corridor.

Unsure what he was planning, the Doctor followed, and soon found himself in the bay where the Master’s TARDIS was kept. The Master beckoned him inside the capsule.

"If we can track her, we can make her pay for her little game of sabotage," he said, punching commands into the console.

The Doctor shut his eyes, saying nothing. He knew the Master was going to kill Jo if he found her—there would be no talking, no making Jo see how much better it would be if she joined them. The Master was too angry to allow that. And the Doctor realised now that it would never have worked anyway—Jo would never understand why he was doing what he was doing. Perhaps this really was the only way.

"Got her!" The Master pointed to a blinking light on the screen. "I’m tracking her on the scanners—we can follow her! When she materialises, we’ll be right there waiting for her!"

"Hello again!"

They were both startled to hear Jo’s cheery voice coming through over the speakers. The Doctor rushed to the console and flicked a switch to answer. "Jo! Jo, listen to me!" Futile or not, he had to at least _try_ to make her see reason.

"No, I think you should listen to me, Doctor." Her voice was quiet but firm. "I was on Gallifrey. They’d recalled the TARDIS, hoping to use it against you somehow, and I was inside it. They told me about all the things you’d done. They said they were going to strike against you. Oh, Doctor, I begged them to change their minds—I begged them to spare you! I tried to convince them you really were a good man underneath it all! And just when I’d almost gotten them to listen, you... you..."

The Doctor hung his head, whispering, "We destroyed Gallifrey."

"Yes! You destroyed it! You killed all those people—your own people! Only a few of us managed to get away, and it was that day that I promised I would do whatever it took to stop you, because this can’t go on, Doctor! It just can’t! Oh, why don’t you see how wrong everything you’re doing is?"

"Jo, please—"

"I’m giving you one chance, Doctor... which is more of a chance than you ever gave the Time Lords, or any of the other people you hurt! If—if you give up now, I won’t do what I’m planning to do." Her words were punctuated by sobs.

Swallowing, the Doctor glanced at the Master, part of him almost hoping his ally would agree to Jo’s demands. But he knew that would never happen.

"And what are you planning to do, Miss Grant, hmm?" shouted the Master. "You have nothing—no weapons, no armies, no allies! Why should we surrender to you? All you have is that dilapidated old TARDIS of the Doctor’s!"

There was a pause. "You’re quite right," Jo sniffed. "All I have is the TARDIS."

"Jo, listen," the Doctor insisted, " _you_ can surrender to _us_. If you give yourself up, I’ll make sure no harm comes to you. Please, Jo!"

"You both think I’m so dim, don’t you? Just a silly little human who doesn’t know what she’s doing." Jo laughed scornfully, and it sounded like she was almost choking on her tears. "Well I know _enough._ The remaining Time Lords showed me how to do something. That’s why I’m here—I needed you to follow me in your TARDIS."

"What are you talking about?" the Master demanded.

A sniff, and then, "Goodbye, Doctor. I wish it wasn’t— I wish I didn’t have to— oh, if only you had _listened_ , but you never do!" The audio shut off.

"Jo!" The Doctor tried to get her back on. "Jo, what are you doing?"

He felt the Master suddenly grab him by the shoulder and point him to one of the dials. "She can’t be! No!"

The Doctor’s eyes widened. "A time ram! Oh, Jo, no!" He watched the needle on the dial climb. At his side, the Master started working desperately to counteract the time ram, but the Doctor knew it was hopeless. The two of them were facing oblivion.

No, the _three_ of them.

He thought back to Jo’s face, to those accusing eyes. The destruction of Gallifrey flashed through his mind again, and with it came memories of every other hideous thing he’d done since joining the Master. _Jo was right,_ he thought, just as the needle reached Time Ram. _I should have listened to her..._

It was much too late to change things now.

**Author's Note:**

> I rewatched Colony in Space recently, and this idea sprang into my head. I think it was originally going to be fun - I mean, when isn't Three and Delgado teaming up fun? - but somewhere along the way it became angsty. Oh well.


End file.
